In Harry Potter's Shadow
by BriiDream
Summary: Ron makes a violent wish after a heated fight with Harry, now he must deal with the consequences. Slytherin!Ron / AU during GoF Rated T for safety.
1. Chapter 1

**None of the Harry Potter characters, settings, merchandise, etc. belongs to me. All are rightfully J.K. Rowling's.**

**Canon up to GoF where the story begins at the announcement of Harry Potter as Fourth Triwizard.**

* * *

**In Harry Potter's Shadow**

**By BriiDream**

**Chapter One**

"Harry Potter!"

The entire Great Hall was silent; shock stood out on every single face, including that of said boy. The three Triwizard Champions had already been named. Not only that, Harry was underage, making it illegal for him to participate in the most exciting tournament ever.

_Hardly call it a surprise-everything happens to famous Harry Potter._ The bitter thought ran loose through a certain redheaded teenager as he watched the boy he befriended three years ago stumble past the teachers and foreign guests to where the other Champions awaited. Professor Dumbledore dismissed all of them distractedly before hurrying off with the other professors to deal with this new addition.

As soon as they left the Great Hall, everyone burst with indignation and angry arguments. How did Potter manage to put his name into the Goblet of Fire. It was unfair; Potter was just a kid. The Durmstrang and Beauxbaton students were the most offended. They demanded second champions be chosen from their schools as well. The normally mild Hufflepuffs were vengeful.

"It's impossible to pass the Age Line," Hermione insisted for the umpteenth time as they entered the Gryffindor Tower. "Harry couldn't have done it whatsoever. It would require a very powerful wizard."

"We all know Harry is powerful," Seamus interrupted her heatedly. "He fought Quirrell in first year, and defeated a basilisk in second, right? How hard would it be for him to slip his name into the Goblet of Fire?!"

"Give it up, Hermione," Ron said coldly from the corner where he was being effectively ignored. As usual, Harry had taken center stage again; the Boy-Who-Did-Amazing-Stunts wasn't even in the room. "Harry found a way and didn't tell anybody. With his luck, I'm not surprised."

Ron didn't wait for Hermione's reply. He headed up to his dorm wanting to escape the growing din in the Common Room. The majority of the other Gryffindors were disgruntled, but Ron knew it wouldn't last. Harry was too famous to be mad at for long.

Ron quickly stripped and pulled on his pajamas. He stared resentfully at the ends of his pants that came up a few inches above his ankles; the sleeves were too short and growing tight around his arms; one or two buttons were missing, so he often didn't button the top up. The dark sweats that Harry slept in were draped across the bottom of the bed beside him. Harry didn't wear the same pajamas for the past four years, that were already secondhand before they reached him. He had mountains of gold sitting in a vault in Gringotts. He was everything Ron wasn't and would never be.

The door to the dorm creaked open. Ron glared up through his bangs as Harry slipped into the room. He ignored the pale skin of his friend (which had yet to gain even one blemish). Harry turned towards him, then to his bed. Harry pulled on his sweats, his back to Ron. Red flashed over his eyes, blinding him even more than his bangs, while his blood boiled.

"How d'you do it?"

"Do what," Harry's voice was muffled through his robes as he yanked them over his head. He still didn't face Ron.

"How did you get past the Age Line and trick the Goblet," Ron forced through his clenched teeth. He stood up, his entire body begging to explode. "And why didn't you share the secret with me?"

"I didn't put my name in the Goblet," Harry continued to speak with his back to Ron. The contempt of the gesture infuriated Ron more.

"Oh, yeah right," Ron spat. "I would think seeing as I'm your best friend, you would not try to pull such a stupid lie with me-"

"I'm not lying," Harry spun around, his green eyes flashing. "I didn't put my name into the Goblet of Fire!"

"How stupid am I," Ron shouted back, uncaring if his voice traveled down the stairs. "Why would the great Harry Potter ever share his way to triumph with me? Come on, even when I'm there, it's still all your fame! Quirrell, the Chamber of Secrets! Ron Weasley is just there to carry the famous Potter's cape."

"I didn't put my name in the Cup," Harry was quieter than Ron, but not by a large margin. "I didn't ask for any of this! And if you won't believe me, you're just as stupid as you appear to be!"

Ron reeled back, his face red. He couldn't hear anything, see anything; but he felt his mouth open, felt his throat burned with the vicious retort. "I'm so sorry you had to put up with my stupidity then! I wished I could undo everything! Helping you, meeting you, ever having set eyes on you! I would be in a different House if only to escape your utter – selfishness-you're beyond Malfoy's level!"

"That's the closest you can come to sensibility?" Harry turned his back again, climbing into bed. He yanked his curtains shut, without another word.

"Whenever did you listen to common sense," Ron whispered before storming out of the dorm. He felt completely numb. He didn't even stop in shock at the sight of his three other dormmates who stood frozen outside the door. He pushed through the still crowded Common Room, out into the halls. The lights were out.

Ron trembled in his rage and pain. He no longer sensed the outside world. He simply tried to keep in movement. He didn't know where the anger had come from, but he wasn't willing to let it go now. The blood-boiling fury empowered him beyond what anything had done before.

The ground beneath his feet disappeared. He was yanked back into the real world with that realization. He fell, unbalanced, down the rest of the moving stairs. He was unable to catch himself on the ledge and went right over it. He cried out as he plummeted through empty space before hitting another set of steps several yards below. He tumbled down them to the ground floor. Far above him, he heard the whisper of the first staircase stopping at its new landing.

Ron ached, his head throbbed. Shakily, he touched his head, raising the arm that hurt the less. His hair was wet and sticky. The anger vanished, leaving all his limbs feeling heavier than several tons. His arm dropped beside his head. He slipped into pain-free oblivion.

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**Chapter two will be up sometime next weekend, hopefully.**


	2. Chapter 2

**None of the Harry Potter characters, settings, merchandise, etc. belongs to me. All are rightfully J.K. Rowling's.**

* * *

**In Harry Potter's Shadow**

**By BriiDream**

**Chapter Two**

"…such a terrible height…severe concussion…St. Mundo's…"

Ron's head felt heavy. He couldn't move it at all. Groaning, he reached up to touch his head. Someone pulled his arm back down. He blinked several times until the blurred surroundings took on more solid features.

"No moving around," Madam Pomfrey ordered. Ron noticed that his arm was heavily bandaged. "I healed the bones, but your skin is still very tender. You also broke several other things plus a concussion that I haven't been able to treat fully."

"Wha-What happened," Ron winced, every syllable vibrated in his head. He finally took notice of his parents and Ginny standing at his side. From the way his mom hovered, her hands fluttering over him, told him he didn't want to look in a mirror anytime soon.

"You don't recall anything?" Ron turned his head a few centimeters (just enough to look out the corner of his eyes) as Snape walked up to him, carrying a potion. "What is your name?"

"Ron. Weasley." Ron laid back down, already exhausted from just turning his head. His mind was numb, only allowing knee-jerk replies. "Son of…Arthur and-and Molly Weasley."

"What's the last thing you can remember, sweetie," Molly patted lightly Ron's bandaged hand. Her eyes seemed to sparkle like she was waiting to burst into tears."

"I…I…" Ron frowned in concentration. What _did_ happen? He was drawing a blank. He was at Hogwarts, so did he remember the Sorting ceremony? Suddenly a memory of plummeting down, down into an abyss popped up, but was that a dream? "I fell?"

Madam Pomfrey ran her wand up and down his body. She frowned when she reached his head. She then turned to his parents, and gestured to her office. Snape handed the potion to Ginny, and followed the other adults out of Ron's hearing and seeing range.

"Ron, do you really remember nothing," Ginny asked, stepping forward with the potion. She helped him drink it. "You must have really hit your head hard."

"I do remember some things," Ron argued weakly. The weight on his head lightened tremendously; he was able to push himself into a semi-sitting position. "I remember falling and…"

He didn't remember anything after that. No matter how far he pushed back into his memory, there was nothing. He tried to recall his eleventh birthday party. He remembered fuzzily being allowed to eat as much cake as he wanted without the twins' interference, but that was it.

"Do you remember anything about this summer," Ginny sat at the end of his bed beside his feet. She studied his scrunched up face as he tried to recall the memories. "The Quidditch World Cup?"

"Bulgaria and Ireland," Ron gasped. Flames danced in front of his eyes. "Something else happened, didn't it?"

"Yeah, do you remember," Ginny pressed. She groaned when he couldn't add anything else. "Ron, come on, you have to remember. You don't want to go to St. Mungo's. I don't think they can cure memory loss."

"Well, tell me everything," Ron urged frantically. "I can't leave Hogwarts! The Tournament-!"

Ron gasped as visions swirled around his head. He remembered the Cup full of blue fire, loud protests, and a boy stumbling to Professor Dumbledore. Everything cut off when his sore shoulder was jerked.

"Ow!" Ron glanced up at Professor Dumbledore's non-sparkling eyes. The others had returned from their discussion.

"Headmaster, what do you think," Arthur stepped over. "St. Mungo's is expensive, but if you think they can help Ron…"

"What did you just remember, Mr. Weasley," Professor Dumbledore asked Ron calmly.

"I don't know," Ron sighed frustrated. The revelation slipped back into the darker regions of his mind. "It comes, then it goes."

"I think Mr. Weasley will overcome this setback on his own," Professor Dumbledore declared. "Time heals all wounds. He is a strong Slytherin, afterall."

"What? I'm a Slytherin," Ron yelped, then hissed in pain as his body ached from his sudden jolt. He looked at his parents, Ginny, and even Snape. None of them burst out laughing at this joke. "B-B-But Weasleys have always been Gryffindors!"

"You're a great Slytherin, Ron," Ginny offered. He felt even more insulted. "You always wanted to do something that none of the rest did."

Becoming a Slytherin hadn't been even a small part of Ron's plan to success. Slytherins were the bad guys. How did he become one of those? He was a Gryffindor! He had Gryffindor blood in his body, not Slytherin!

"You will stay in the Infirmary until your body has properly healed," Madam Pomfrey informed him. "That will likely be a week or two."

"Your classmates will bring your makeup work tomorrow," Snape sneered at his dismayed look. "Let's hope you can manage the work of fourth years. Don't worry; you'll be out of here before the Triwizard Champions are announced."

Ron remained silent as the two professors swept out of the Infirmary. Ginny squeezed his hand and his mom showered him with kisses. They all worried that he wouldn't be able to handle his schoolwork if he couldn't even remember he was a Slytherin. It was evident on their faces. _Are all Gryffindors so expressive?_

"NO," Ron buried his head in his hands ignoring the nagging ache in his arms and shoulders. "I am a Gryffindor…I am a Gryffindor."

Madam Pomfrey fretted over a younger student with a minor curse problem. Ron remained in the same position until the lights went out in the Infirmary. He then laid back, exhausted, from his chanting.

He refused to believe that he was a Slytherin. He had a very strong feeling that something was just not right. The swirl of images and voices in his head disproved whatever was going on here. Something terrible had happened. The memory of plummeting into a dark abyss was the strongest, clearest one in his head.

Ron drifted into the swirl of images and voices that held his lost identity somewhere in the center. He was running, running, running. Away or towards, he didn't know. There was screaming, but he didn't know who was screaming.

"_-I would be in a different House if only to escape you-"_

Escape who?


	3. Chapter 3

**None of the Harry Potter characters, settings, merchandise, etc. belongs to me. All are rightfully J.K. Rowling's.**

* * *

**In Harry Potter's Shadow**

**By BriiDream**

**Chapter Three**

Ron awoke with a headache the next day. His dreams had been vivid, but now awake, the images were slowly slipping away. Madam Pomfrey gave him a potion for the pain, then helped him sit up and finish two bowls of broth. After he ate, she went over his injuries. His body was healing fast.

"Do you think Ginny is coming today," Ron asked. She was the only thing familiar here now. He didn't want to put up with any Slytherins at all.

"We shall see," Madam Pomfrey replied. "Some of your classmates might come to visit for a very short period."

She was right. At noon, shortly after Ron finished his bland lunch, two Slytherins stepped into the Infirmary with their arms filled with parchment and books. Ron couldn't remember the name of the girl, but the boy he knew for certain was pureblood Theodore Nott.

"Are you feeling alright, Weasley," Nott asked while dumping his load on Ron's lap. Ron simply stared at him, paying no attention to the pile of work on his lap. "What's the matter with you? You can't understand words either?"

"Shut up, Theodore," the girl glared across the bed at him. "Professor Snape said that it was just short-term memory loss. Ron will kill you once he regains common sense."

"Unless memory loss gives you increased ability," Nott scoffed, "I highly doubt any danger to myself."

"I'm still here, in case you've forgotten," Ron finally spoke up. He didn't like being in such close proximity with Slytherins, and especially not in the middle of a love quarrel.

"He speaks," Nott sneered and, to Ron's dismay, sat on the bed beside him. He pulled out a textbook and opened it up. "Do you think you can do your work on your own, Weasley?"

"Ignore him," the girl, to Ron's greater horror, sat on the edge of _his_ bed. "He's just mad that Draco sent him in his place, as usual."

"Butt out, Davis," Nott scowled darkly at her. Ron couldn't help but snicker when she stuck her tongue back at the pureblood (it was so un-Slytherin). Nott turned on him. "I don't see what's funny about your _boyfriend_ avoiding you!"

"Malfoy's not my boyfriend!"

"How would you know?" Nott looked pleased that he had hit a nerve. "You don't remember anything, remember?"

Ron opened his mouth to snarl back. _Did you even hear what he said?_ Ron stopped. He thought for one confused second before bursting into giggles. "H-How would I remember not remembering anything, if I d-don't remember anything!"

Davis giggled with him. Nott turned away from both with a huff. Ron couldn't help but puff up with pride at finally getting one over a Slytherin. _See what a little thinking does?_

"Just do your work, Weasley," Nott growled over their snickers. "Professor Snape said if you fail anything it'll be on our heads."

"I think it'll be best to start with History of Magic." At Ron's dismayed look, she added, "There's very little you really have to do-just read over Nott's and my notes. No one is making you do any actual work. The Headmaster thinks you have retained most of your knowledge; it's just blocked like in a Memory Charm."

"Um, sure," Ron grimaced at the pile of books and notes. His head started to ache again. "Hey, um…do you know what happened…to me?"

"You fell off your broom," Nott spoke up, cutting off Davis's response. "You and the other idiots thought it would be cool to race outside in the dark with no lights."

"It was a completely _Gryffindorish _thing to do," she scoffed scornfully. "We lost 50 house points-thank all idols that it was Professor Snape that found you boys."

"Right." Ron rubbed the back of his head, grimacing again. His head was throbbing, and he could feel memories stirring. His eyes fluttered shut. Victor Krum raced across his eyelids and snatched the Snitch…he roared along with the Ireland fans…Bulgaria got the Snitch, but Ireland won-

"Ron? Ron!"

His eyes shot open. His head was pounding so hard that his surroundings were swirling. A potion was forced down his throat. It burned followed by a cool numbness. Far far away, he could hear Madam Pomfrey shooing the two Slytherins away. Dark settled.

He jumped out of the way of falling rocks, slipping over a slimy, crunchy surface…He was running to grab Scabbers who turned into a man…Ginny named his owl to his outrage…a small owl rocketed around his room as his darkhaired companion arrived with his snowy white owl-

"-should leave-"

Ron jerked awake. He glanced around wildly but stop when he saw Ginny hovering at the end of his bed. She started and swiftly turned fully back around to him.

"Ron? Are you awake?"

"Wha-What time is it," he slurred, the effects of the Sleeping Draught lingering. The infirmary was dim. _How did she get in here?_

"I was worried about you," Ginny whispered, her hands clutching the railing. "Tracey Davis told me you had some kind of seizure, and Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let me in to see you…"

"I'm fine, Ginny," Ron ran his hand over his sweaty forehead. "Visit me tomorrow…or later today…"

"Go to sleep, Ron," Ginny hesitated then stepped to the side of the bed. Her hair trailed across his face as she bent down and kissed him on the forehead, just like Mum used to.

Ron's eyes closed involuntarily. He opened them to look up at Ginny, but she was already gone. As he relaxed into slumber again, he heard a door distantly shut.

When he awoke the next morning, he thought over the impossibility of Ginny sneaking after curfew, unseen, from the Gryffindor Tower. As a third year, she could never have managed that on her own.

_Who said she was alone?_

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**I am so sorry for the past month of inactivity. Things will definitely begin to pick up again. You can definitely expect at least two more updates this month!**


	4. Chapter 4

**None of the Harry Potter characters, settings, merchandise, etc. belongs to me. All are rightfully J.K. Rowling's.**

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**In Harry Potter's Shadow**

**By BriiDream**

**Chapter Four**

"At least you're getting out tomorrow," Tracey Davis smiled sympathetically as she tipped another load of books into his lap. "You'll be able to watch the arrival of Durmstrang and Beauxbaton."

"That'll be spectacular," Ron grumbled. A vision of giant, flying horses and a ship bursting out of the lake flitted through his mind. When he tried to concentrate on it, everything went blank. He growled as he massaged his head. This was the tenth time that had happened in the past week.

"Headache again?"

"No, simple frustration." What? Ron shifted uncomfortably, but Tracey Davis didn't find his comment odd like he did. A lot of things were happening with him that was odd. "Nott still avoiding me?"

"As is Draco," she frowned at him. "I think they're both being ridiculous; it's like they're expecting you to explode or something."

"I did have a fit last time," Ron grinned as she glared at him. He would be happy if the other boys avoided him for the rest of his life. _Would you really be able to stand the loneliness?_

Ron grunted and rubbed his head harder. He might of hit his head falling, but he was pretty sure that hearing voices was still a bad thing. Especially when he couldn't tell the difference between his thoughts and those other comments.

"I'm getting Madam Pomfrey," Tracey announced. She slipped off, ignoring his protests.

Madam Pomfrey bustled over with the goblet full to the brim with the sleeping draught. Ron grimaced at the Slytherin before taking the potion. It worked almost instantaneously. A hand ghost across his scalp before his mind slipped into nothing.

The next morning was complete bliss as he stepped out of the Infirmary into an empty hall. Everyone else was in class. Madam Pomphrey had given very detailed directions to the Slytherin dormitories, even though Ron told her he already knew his way. Ron set out down the hall, glancing around curiously. Everything was familiar-yet he remembered nothing about himself or others.

"Parseltongue."

Ron stepped into the Slytherin Common Room. A few older NEWT students were sitting in groups of two and three, studying and finishing up essays that were likely due soon. Ron was grateful that all his makeup work was finished. He turned around hesitantly; the Common Room was as far as his subconscious stretched.

"Well, if it isn't Weasel back from the dead."

Ron tensed as a thick, heavy arm was thrown over his shoulder and dragged him towards a clearly older student. He glanced up; it took him about a minute to put a name to (a very ugly) face-Montague. Ron remembered hazily that the guy was on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"How it feel to be among the living, brat?"

"Leave him alone, Montague," an older Slytherin girl with a prefect badge called from a dark corner. She flipped her hair out of the way as she added, "Professor Snape will kill you if you mess the kid up worser than he found him."

"Tough-OW!" Montague jerked his arm away from Ron. He swore and glared at his swelling hand.

"Keep your hands to yourself, Montague," Tracey Davis kept her wand in front of her warily. She stepped over to Ron, as the rest of the younger Slytherins piled in. "All ready to greet our fellow foreign students?"

"Now?" Ron grimaced, rubbing his head. "Gah, I thought we had time."

"Professor Snape wants to inspect us well beforehand."

Ron sighed, but followed Tracey Davis out of the Common Room along with a stream of other Slytherins. He was surprised at the control most of them had. There were only a few trolls who pushed through the younger kids, and those were quickly subdued by the prefects. Tracey Davis grabbed his hand, so they wouldn't be separated. The entrance hall was beginning to fill up with other students.

"Tuck your shirt in, Mr. Weasley." Snape sharply jabbed him in the back while directing the first and second years up front. Ron stuffed his shirt in his pants and joined the other fourth years. The Slytherin House was organized ten minutes before any of the other Houses. Ginny waved from the other side of the entrance hall as they were led outside.

"Welcome back, Weasley," Malfoy muttered around Nott who chose not to acknowledge his presence.

Beauxbaton arrived shortly after Ron's fingers and toes had frozen. Zabini snickered when a few older students behind them made comments about the Beauxbaton students and Headmistress. _She can't be fully human. _Durmstrang's arrival was just as theatrical; but the excitement that swept through the Hogwarts crowd was not over the headmaster, but the student behind him-Quidditch star, Viktor Krum.

"I can't believe it," Ron exclaimed, standing on tiptoes to get a better look as the students turned to enter the school. "I didn't know Krum was still in school. Blimey, I wonder how he can do it and still be at Quidditch practice."

"I thought you were suffering from memory loss," Nott muttered annoyed.

"How can anyone forget Viktor Krum?" Malfoy slipped past Nott and grabbed Ron's arm. He pulled Ron along as he elbowed his way to the front of the line. "Hurry up, we might be able to convince him to sit beside us."

Ron's annoyance at being dragged around by Malfoy quickly evaporated, and he hurried along with the blonde to the Slytherin table. Once everyone was at their table, it became clear that they didn't have to do no campaigning; Durmstrang went straight to their table without a second glance at the others. Krum sat directly across from Malfoy.

"Can I have your autograph?" _Smooth-really smooth._

"Manners, Weasley." Malfoy threw an exasperated look at him. He confided loudly to Krum, "He had an accident during one of our Quidditch games. Head trauma."

"You play Quidditch," Krum glanced over, interested.

"I played Seeker for the past three years," Malfoy boasted eagerly. "My boys were going to try for the team this year, but it was canceled for the Triwizard Tournament."

_Property of Draco Malfoy, huh?_ Ron stuffed his mouth savagely as soon as dinner appeared on the table. He swallowed hard before speaking when Malfoy turned distractedly to Pansy Parkinson, "Where are you sleeping tonight?"

"In the ship."

Ron deflated slightly. He glanced absentmindedly past Krum as he raised a roll to his mouth. He froze as he stared directly into a pair of vivid green eyes. The vision of identical eyes staring accusingly at him in another world…another lifetime…flashed too quickly for him to process.

"You gonna eat that?"

Ron jumped and looked at Goyle who eyed his still-whole roll. He wordlessly passed it over and stared past Krum's head at the Gryffindor table. There were no green eyes gazing at him, although several others were staring enviously at them. Ginny was chatting easily with a bushy-haired girl who looked vaguely familiar to him.

_Catching on quick, aren't we?_

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**I'm a bit concerned about Viktor's accent. -_- I skimmed some of his lines in GoF and all I really saw was that his w's came out as v's and have is haff. I hope his line is okay for now.**

**Sorry for the delayed chapter. , for some unknown reason, is messing things up in the chapter and won't accept the changes I made.**


	5. Chapter 5

**None of the Harry Potter characters, settings, merchandise, etc. belongs to me. All are rightfully J.K. Rowling's.**

**

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**In Harry Potter's Shadow**

**By BriiDream**

**Chapter Five**

"Stupid age limit," Ron groaned as he followed Theodore Nott to their dorm. The steps descended in a spiral, similar to those in the Gryffindor Tower. How did he know that? He'd never been in the Gryffindor Tower.

"That's your bed." Nott jerked his head to the right while he headed to the opposite bed. He dumped his books on the edge. "Bathroom's to my right—don't leave a mess behind. The house elves only clean the rooms weekly. Lights go out at ten, so you might want to get in the bathroom soon."

"You can't use the bathroom after ten?"

"Not with Blaise Zabini as your roommate," Nott muttered.

Ron didn't get a chance to puzzle that as Zabini stepped into the room and shoved past Ron to the only bed left. Zabini pulled his robes off and had his shirt unbuttoned within sixty seconds before turning to Ron with a sharp look.

"Let's get this straight ahead of time, Weasley," he purred like a feline circling its prey. "Amnesiac or not, I won't hold back the hexes if you wake me up with your snoring or any other ridiculous nightly disturbance. Compreso?"

_Agree. Agree with him. _Ron took a deep breath, waiting for his boiling blood to cool. "Sure."

"Take note, Weasley," Nott chuckled, satisfied. "He doesn't throw just Stinging Hexes."

Ron got quickly in bed to pretend sleeping. The lights went out, leaving them in ink black darkness. The silence was smothering. Hours passed by, or at least, he guessed—there was no way of telling time without a window showing the moon's progress across the sky. _Only windows are in the Common Room, beneath the sea._

It was usually quite easy for him to fall asleep. Or at least, from what he could remember, it had been easy for him to fall asleep. He didn't remember the Slytherin dorms. He could remember falling asleep in a room full of other boys, yet he knew it wasn't the Slytherin dorms. It was just one of many things that weren't adding up.

"Pulling an all-nighter?"

Ron jumped and swore as he glared across the dark room in the general direction of Nott's bed. Of course, he couldn't see him (stupid windowless dungeons). He jumped again when a candle wick ignited just a few inches from Nott. The dancing flame threw moving shadows across his face.

"Are _you_ pulling an all-nighter?" Ron sat up and scowled.

"That would be none of your business." Ron's face burned; Nott shushed him when he opened his mouth to retort. "Careful. You don't want to wake Beauty Queen."

Ron's eyes flickered to the hangings that surrounded Zabini's bed. No sound came from him. _I wonder if he got vampire blood in him—probably sleep like one._

"You think you're just better than everyone else, don't you," Ron hissed. Malfoy and Nott were the most scornful of the fourth years. _At least Malfoy knows where to draw the line. Most of the time._

"I am better. Half-bloods and Mudbloods are beneath me, simply by default."

"Shut up!"

The candle winked out. _Now you did it._ His heart stopped as the rustling of sheets to his right ceased. He held his breath and slid beneath his own blankets as quietly as possible. The silence almost choked him.

"And blood traitors. Far above them as well."

Ron smothered his scream of exasperation and fury in his pillow behind a last-minute _Silencio_. Why didn't he think of that before?

Vines and branches wrapped around his arms and legs in the dark…he watched his two other companions be completely consumed by them…a large beast like the Grim attacked him…unbearable agony set his leg on fire…the Grim morphed into a werewolf who snapped his jaws at him and a bushy-haired girl…the darkhaired boy laughed at him…his wide green eyes narrowed in anger—

"Ow," Ron yelped, grabbing his stinging backside and tumbling off the bed onto the cold stone floors. He swore and jumped up.

"Good morning, Weasley," Nott snickered along with Zabini as they stood fully dressed by the door. "Hurry up or you're going to miss breakfast."

"I wonder who put their names in already," Zabini studied his nails as Nott swept past him. He smirked at Ron before leaving as well.

Ron muttered darkly as he untangled himself from his sheets. He hopped across the cold stone floor to his trunk and pulled out a random pair of socks, shirt and pants. He quickly dressed, noting that morning made no difference in the dorms. The lights were just as bright as the night before. He hastily located his shoes and stormed out of the empty dorms.

He nearly got lost in the maze of halls in the dungeons when he made a wrong turn. Thankfully, he spotted a bunch of younger Slytherins heading back to the dorms. The entrance hall was unusually crowded with students loitering around the Goblet.

"Late morning, Ron!"

Ron glanced over his shoulders without stopping. Ginny's mane disappeared around a corner with a group of other females. He slammed hard into another person at the threshold of the Great Hall. Both of them bounced back.

"Sorry," Ron rubbed his head and glanced at the other boy. He froze when a familiar pair of green eyes flickered up at him.

"Right."

"Come on, Harry," the bushy-haired girl from the night before nudged Harry Potter in the side. She threw a dark look at Ron before both Gryffindors left.

"There you are," Tracey Davis diverted his attention with a plate full of still-warm bacon and eggs. Only Crabbe and Goyle remained of their year—and from the way they were stuffing their faces, they might remain there long after he finished his plate. "Is something wrong?"

"I just bumped into Harry Potter," he stated dazedly.

"I hope you haven't regressed back to your hero worship of him," she sniffed. "Stupid Gryffindor heroics should never be admired, unless you wish to be taken as a fool or suicidal."

"Who's submitted their names, already?" _That's right—the Tournament is far more captivating than familiar Boy-Who-Lived._

"All of Durmstrang and Beaxbatons, of course," Tracey Davis dug through her schoolbag. She pulled up a neat scroll. "Warrington might have; that Gryffindor Chaser Johnson did; and Diggory, I believe. I need to go mail this—we have a study group scheduled in the library in five minutes."

"A study group," he groaned, staring sullenly at his half-empty plate. "It's a Saturday!"

"You will go," she jabbed his shoulder sharply. "I'm warning you, Ronald Weasley…if you don't show up there on time, memory loss will be the least of your troubles. Oh, and tell them that I went to owl my mother."

"What," Ron exclaimed too late. Tracey Davis disappeared around the corner. Ron glanced over at Crabbe and Goyle; both stood up after swallowing the rest of their food whole and hurried out of the Great Hall. Grumbling, Ron followed them out.

He slowed a bit while passing the Goblet. It would be spectacular to become a Champion—_all that glory and a thousand Galleons_. He gasped as the Goblet glowed and spat out blue fire—Dumbledore reached for the fluttering piece of burnt parchment while mutters raced up and down the four House tables—then he was shot back to the present day, present hour. The Goblet sat on the stool, dormant.

Unnerved, he rushed off to the library, breaking into a run as the clock struck nine. He was out of breath when he finally reached the doors. He silenced his gasps as he strode past Madam Pince and eventually found the Slytherins in the darkest nook. _Quite close to the Restricted Section._

"Ten minutes late, Weasley," Nott smirked. "Davis got here first."

"How was I supposed to know where to find you in here," Ron protested, backing away from her wand into a bookshelf. _Turn it on her, quick._ "You didn't give me the exact location, and you know I don't remember anything."

"Oh, but you remember the youngest international Quidditch Seeker," Nott scowled as Tracey Davis put her wand away.

"Leave him be." Ron gawked at Malfoy defending him before Tracey Davis could scold Nott. "Sit down, Weasley; the faster we finished, the sooner we can get out of here. Krum's not going to sit around in a ship all day."

Ron hesitantly accepted the (only empty) chair between Millicent Bulstrode and Zabini. Both ignored him. He copied Zabini's notes over his shoulders until the boy huffed and threw a library encyclopedia at him with _Wingardium Leviosa._

"Hey, I have a question, Malfoy," Ron finally called, going against every one of his instincts.

"What? This is easy work," Draco drawled, earning a glare from Nott, a vaguely familiar blonde, and Tracey Davis.

"Not about this." _Like any of it actually sunk into that skull._ "About Harry Potter."

Every single one of them looked up and over at him. The silence was nearly oppressive.

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**I am sorry for posting this so late. My life has been distracting (financial problems, computer problems, moving, the like). **


	6. Chapter 6

**None of the Harry Potter characters, settings, merchandise, etc. belongs to me. All are rightfully J.K. Rowling's.**

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**In Harry Potter's Shadow**

**By BriiDream**

**Chapter Six**

"And why would you want to know about Potter," Draco sneered after Ron had quite a few minutes to sweat under the glares of the other Slytherins. "He's the precious Golden Boy of the wizarding world. Pathetic—worshipping the ground of some scrawny Gryffindor who stays in the Infirmary more often than not."

"Oh," Ron failed to keep the interest out of his voice, earning a sharp kick in the knee although he couldn't exactly say from whom (he strongly suspected Millicent Bulstrode though). "I—I mean, he just seemed familiar when I bumped into him…"

"Like Krum," Tracey Davis asked, slightly exasperated. "He's famous, what'd you expect? No, don't answer that."

"So is Potter as bad as say—Draco?" Ron asked as innocently as possible earning giggles from all the girls except Parkinson and a scoff from Zabini. Thankfully, the tense atmosphere lessened enough for Ron to breathe freely.

"I don't know what that's supposed to mean." Malfoy glared darkly at Ron.

"Easy really," Theodore Nott smirked. "You both have incredibly big heads. You both drive Professor Snape to the edge with your inability to obey basic school rules. You also let your talents make you think you can take on the world. Frankly the only difference is that you're a pureblood spoiled by your parents and Potter's an orphan raised by Muggles."

"That makes all the difference in the world," Malfoy sneered, earning nods from Crabbe and Goyle.

Ron's ears reddened and he opened his mouth. He faltered when he caught Tracey Davis's eye and she shook her head once in warning. Not sure exactly why, he closed his mouth and returned his attention to the worksheet in front of him.

…he was waving his wand as a small dark-haired boy clung to a troll's head and a girl beneath the shattered sinks was screaming…he was standing in a lavatory while the same girl brewed something in a cauldron…he was in the crowded Great Hall as the girl pushed the boy, _Harry Potter_, towards that glowing Goblet, as she turned to him with her wide brown eyes filled with so much shock and worry…

"Oi!"

Ron fell backwards tripping over his overturned chair. He glanced around wildly, noticing he had accidentally knocked Blaise's ink all over their papers and Blaise himself. Everyone stared at him as his heart rate increased. _I can't breathe._

"Bloody hell, Weasley," Millicent Bulstrode finally declared, standing up and—

She had that brown-eyed, bushy-haired girl in a headlock, grinning maliciously as the smaller girl whimpered—

No! Ron stumbled backwards into a bookshelf before whirling around and rushing out of the library, ignoring Madam Pince's scandalized shrieks or the Slytherins' calls after him. He had to get away—_he couldn't breathe_.

He ran into the wall and a couple of statues who swore at him, but he eventually found himself streaking down the school grounds. He tripped over something and fell headfirst, rolling a few times before coming to a disheveled stop.

"Bloody hell," he groaned, rubbing his throbbing head. He lay back against the ground, panting. What was happening to him? Was it the fall? It had to be.

He didn't understand these…visions…if he could call them that. They were really starting to scare him. He wasn't a Seer—they only saw the future, but this hadn't been the future at all. The other two kids were younger versions of the two he had just walked into less than an hour ago.

"Are you alright?"

Ron jolted straight up. Unfortunately, the world decided to whirl and flip-flop around him, and he hastily turned his head and hurled up his breakfast.

"Oh great. Hey, Neville, come here please!" The familiar voice called and Ron could hear a second person joining them. "Help me get him to Hagrid's."

Ron shuddered and wiped his mouth with a grimace. The two Gryffindors seized him under his armpits and helped him stand. He put his arm around Neville's shoulder as his knees threatened to buckle.

"Do you think he was hexed?" They continued down the slope, stumbling here and there. Ron focused on where he put his feet.

"Probably," the first voice mumbled.

Ron closed his eyes as they near the hut of the groundkeeper. He winced as he nearly tripped over the top step. The door swung open and he heard Hagrid exclaimed something before he was dumped on one of those tall stools that sat around the table.

"Alright there, Weasley," Hagrid sat a steaming mug of tea in front of him. Ron sipped at it to get rid of the taste of vomit.

"Thanks," Ron said shakily, glancing around the hut. It was small and smelled different…then again it might just be the huge dog lying on the bed—Fang.

"Does anything hurt?"

Ron broke off his stare at the dog to look into the unreadable face of Harry Potter. He couldn't help but be surprised (and a little suspicious why) that the boy had even dared to help a Slytherin. For some obscure reason, Ron had a feeling the boy didn't do that for any Slytherin.

"My head," Ron replied, wincing as the throbbing pain once again grabbed his attention.

"Yeh'll have to go to Madam Pomfrey about that," Hagrid grunted. "Don't keep potions here."

"Yeah, alright," Ron shifted awkwardly in his stool. He shouldn't be here. He finished the mug of tea before standing up. "I should go now. Thanks."

Harry Potter stood up as well waving Neville down when the other boy stood up. "I'll walk you to the Infirmary. Just in case."

Ron nodded, ignoring the tiny, angry voice in his head telling him to deny the help of the Gryffindor. It was what a proper Slytherin would do after all, but Ron was feeling particularly Slytherinish right now.

Ron walked out the hut, only slightly unsteady. Harry Potter walked silently by his side. Ron felt uneasy, but was relieved when they reach the Entrance Hall without him being overcome by visions again.

"I can go from here," Ron glanced sideways at the boy. "I'm feeling much better."

"I still prefer to make sure."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "I don't need your help."

"Some people actually help others with no strings attached, Weasley," Harry Potter looked at Ron with those oh-so-familiar green eyes and Ron paused in his retort. "Where are those people you're usually with anyway?"

Ron frowned. He might not remember much, but he was pretty certain that if he hadn't been a Slytherin, Potter wouldn't have made the assumption that he didn't have friends. "Probably looking for me. I kinda ran out on them."

"Why?"

"My head hurt," Ron looked away, relieved when they turned a corner and the Infirmary was right there. He picked up his pace and got a few feet ahead of the Gryffindor.

He hesitated at the door and turned to face Harry Potter who had stopped a meter behind him. He opened his mouth, uncertain what he should say.

"There you are!"

Ron and Harry both turned as Draco Malfoy strolled up to them. He threw a nasty look at Harry (which was fully returned) before stopping at Ron's side. "We've been looking for you."

"Sorry, I just needed a pain reliever. Headache," Ron grimaced, praying Malfoy didn't say anything in front of Harry Potter.

Draco's eyes narrowed, but he simply gave a curt nod. He turned to said Gryffindor who was still standing there and snapped, "You need something, Potter?"

Harry just gave him a disgusted look before walking off, likely returning to Neville and Hagrid. Ron stared after him.

"What did Potter want?" Draco asked, suspicious.

"Dunno."

Madam Pomfrey gave Ron the potion, but forced him to stay in the hospital wing. Draco Malfoy left after a few minutes after Madam Pomfrey informed that she just wanted to take a few scans just to make sure Ron was truly okay. He was certain Malfoy was going to round up the other Slytherins and tell them he found Ron.

This was proven correct when Ron awoke to two female voices arguing with Madam Pomfrey to let them see him. He sat up, surprisingly clear-headed for waking up.

"Can I see them please, Madam Pomfrey?" He called over, grabbing their attention. "They won't leave otherwise."

Madam Pomfrey huffed, but stood aside as Tracey Davis and Ginny hurried over to his side.

"What happened, Ron?" Ginny sat on the edge of his bed, placing her hands on his head. "Tracey said you had a fit of some sorts."

"I did not," he flushed, glaring at Tracey Davis. "I…I just had a headache."

"And that's why you decided to fling ink all over Zabini," she asked, quirking her eyebrows. Ginny giggled. "Let's stick to the idea of a fit so Zabini won't curse you the second you walk into the Common Room. It took both Nott and Daphne to stop him from hunting you down."

"Nott? Seriously?" he asked, dubious.

"It was either that or actually help in looking for you," Tracey Davis rolled her eyes.

Ron was relieved. He was pretty certain Nott would be the type to do things in return for favors—dangerous ones that would likely get him killed or expelled.

"Now answer my question, Ronald," Ginny demanded.

'_Honestly, Ronald.'_ Bushy, brown hair whipped across his face as those brown eyes stared accusingly and hurt at him.

"Ron!" He jolted back to the present. Tracey Davis stared accusingly at him. "You just did it again!"

"My head hurts," he said tiredly. "I should go back to sleep. I hardly got any last night."

Before either girl could press him, Madam Pomfrey swooped down on them as if she had been waiting for that admittance. She ushered them out the Infirmary.

"Can I still go to dinner tonight?" Rona asked once the mediwitch bustled over. She pursed her lips. "Please?"

"If nothing comes up on the scans. Now to sleep with you. One of these scans in particular cannot work with you conscious."

Ron obliged, drifting off into dreams of giant chessboards and giant black dogs.

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**Well, that didn't go as expected (I am pretty sure the story will write itself as long as I don't think too hard about it). I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter (even if it's a bit sloppy).**


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